Art Of Destruction

No need for alarm my

truth’s volatile bomb

mangled facade gone;

bid it adieu urge along.

Search in an essence,

which is ever present,

I harbor not pleasant

truths of me I resent.

Check off my routines,

one by one define me.

Beyond what is seen,

I wasn’t what I seemed.

Some things I destroy

to begin again employ

a method so I do enjoy

the structure of a joy.

Beautiful is discovery;

to disassemble ugly.

Ideas then a recovery

of truth to cover me.

With nothing to hide

cloaked in a cloak light

are burdens they strike;

reach not me I survive.

So tear down my tower

I built with lies so sour.

For found I did a power

that grows every hour.

I used to dull it numb.

With such defined fun,

by devils’ burning sun,

it offers no peace none.

My trek was to embark

for parts to edify heart.

After I tore lies apart,

I built what sparks art.

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